


Stained Hands, Hurt Hearts

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Castiel, Post-Episode: s10e23 My Brother's Keeper, Post-Season/Series 10 Finale, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sick Castiel, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'There was no ominous dark sky, no freakish cloud. Not even a breeze that indicated the darkness they had unleashed.  With grave looks, they maneuvered the impala out of the pothole and Dean started the car.<br/>“We need to find Rowena.” Dean stated gruffly, “and figure out what the hell she-”<br/>“No.” Sam cut him off sharply, voice cold. “We need to find Cas.”'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding Cas

        The first thing Sam noticed was the light.  He opened his eyes and immediately raised a hand against the sunlight glinting through the car windows.  Sunrise.  Dean stirred in the seat next to him, then straightened with a jolt.  The brothers exchanged a look, and with one motion they opened the doors and exited the car.  There was no ominous dark sky, no freakish cloud. Not even a breeze that indicated the darkness they had unleashed.  But a morning sky greeted them. Which meant lost time. _Something_ had happened. But what?  With grave looks, they maneuvered the impala out of the pothole and Dean started the car.  

        “We need to find Rowena.” Dean stated gruffly, “and figure out what the hell she-”

                “No.” Sam cut him off sharply, voice cold. “We need to find Cas,” he looked over at his brother, “You know, our friend, the one who is constantly saving our lives, that you could show a _little bit_ of concern for?”  Sam was aware of his voice rising, blood rushing up his neck.  He turned his face away towards the window, hands clenching and unclenching on his jeans.   Working so much with Cas recently, seeing his concern for Dean and unyielding loyalty despite the apathy he got in return, Sam felt a strong wave of protectiveness and jealousy.

        Cas deserved more than the rough friendship he received from them, both of them.  They had been shitty friends.  He deserved better.  Cas deserved to be held, _loved_.  Sam shook his head, aware of Dean’s troubled stare. So, maybe he did have feelings for Cas that went beyond friendship.  It didn’t matter. Cas would always be “Deans”.  The impala roared to life as Sam felt his brother’s gaze turn back over the road.  He thought of concerned blue eyes and rare smiles.  It was a silent ride.

        Sam unlocked the door to the bunker, and entered quickly, Dean’s footsteps following behind him.  He called Cas’ name, eyes roving over the rooms and hallways as he passed.  The closer he got to the chamber, the worse the feeling in his stomach became.  Opening the door, he stopped in his tracks.  A giant pool of blood surrounded three bodies on the floor.  An unknown male, Crowley, and Cas. _Jesus_.  Sam stumbled as he rushed to Cas, face down on the floor. _Oh god please don’t be-_ He heard Dean’s voice sharp behind him, “Cas?!”  

        Sam felt Cas shift, _alive_ , as he turned him, and his breath punched out of him, tears in the edges of his eyes.  Sam lay one strong arm behind Cas’ back, the other under his shoulder blades.  Cas’ face was streaked with blood, seeping from his eyes and running in rivulets into the no longer white of his collared shirt.  The lines of red were laced with wet streaks of tears, and Cas’ whole body radiated complete and utter exhaustion, like he couldn’t even raise his head.  But his eyes, as bloodshot and dull as they were, still lit up with relief and a fondness Sam knew he didn’t deserve.  He shifted his body so Cas’ head could rest against his chest, and realized he was shaking.  He jumped when Dean placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, the guilt evident on his face as he looked at Cas.  A raspy whisper came from Cas, and Sam had to bend his face closer to hear him.  “You came.”  His voice held a note of surprise.  Sam felt the arms he had around Cas tighten, coughing a lump out of his throat,

        “Of course we came for you, Cas.”  Sam looked up at Dean, who looked away, jaw clenching.  Dean stood up and walked over to Crowley’s body.  “Is he?” Sam said softly.  Dean nodded.  “Good.”  Sam said shortly.  He looked back to the limp body in his arms, and suddenly he didn’t care if Cas and Dean had a “profound bond”.  He wasn’t going to let that stop him from turning Cas closer, moving one hand to the back of his neck as he pressed a gentle kiss into his hair.  The other hand ran small circles gently on Cas’ back.  Sam felt more than heard Cas say in a small, croaky, voice, “Sam?”  He stilled his hand, pulling back a little, “Is this okay?”  Sam spoke softly, feeling his heart stop.  Cas nodded against his chest, and Sam let out a breath.  

        Cas raised a shaking hand, slowly, tentatively, and clasped on to Sam’s shirt.  But it was like all of Cas’ strength was gone, and after a couple moments his hand fell limply back into his lap.  Sam caught it where it fell and clasped it, weaving their fingers together, his breath quickening at the jolt that ran through him.  He brought their joined hands up where they rested above his heart.  Sam heard a bitten off sob, and rubbed a thumb over Cas’ knuckles, fighting back tears of his own.  He felt the angel give a gentle squeeze in return.  Sam returned his lips so they rested again in Cas’ hair, murmuring, “I’m sorry, Cas. I’m here. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”    

        Dean eventually returned and began to clean up the bodies and the blood.  Sam continued to speak softly, endearments and comforting words as he lifted Cas up and carried him to his room.  Sam could sleep in one of the spare rooms or in the library.  His bed had actual nice sheets and a plush comforter, unlike Dean who hadn’t bothered.  By the time they reached his room, Cas was unconscious, or sleeping. Either way, that wasn’t a good sign.  Sam removed the trench coat and shoes,  and stared at Cas’ remaining clothing, stained in the blood that appeared to still be running very slowly from around Cas’ eyes.  He realized his own shirt was completely sticky with fresh blood, his own fingers red.  Sam stilled, fighting the urge to wash his hands over and over.  Soiled hands.

        He let out a shaky breath, and unbuttoned Cas’ shirt.  He pulled one of his old Standford long sleeve tees over Cas’ head, gently moving those strong arms through the sleeves.  Sam hesitated but gritted his teeth as he removed the dress pants. Damn.  Cas had been completely on his side in the pool of blood.  It had even seeped through to his boxers.  Sam turned his face, looking away as much as he could as he slid them off Cas’ hips, and pulled a pair of sweatpants up Cas’ legs.  His face was hot by the time he had all the ruined clothes and tossed them into a corner.  Sam knew this outfit and his sheets and blankets would be tinted in blood, but they were replaceable.  

        Sam lifted Cas' legs as he struggled with the sheets and the navy comforter, pulling it over his body and tucking it over Cas’ shoulders.  Cas’ eyes flickered open as Sam’s hands brushed against his face.  The blue eyes held a small amount of muted pain, but were mostly confused, which made Sam feel even guiltier.  When Sam ran a hand through Cas’ hair, fingers tenderly scratching at the scalp, the eyes held a glint of a smile, and Cas rasped out, “I like this.”  Sam chuckled despite himself, sobering quickly as his hand moved to cup Cas’ cheek, thumb rubbing up and down the cheekbone.  Cas’ eyes fluttered shut with a sigh.

        “We will find out how to make you better, Cas. We’ll solve this.”  Cas’ eyes remained closed, but the crinkles around his eyelids still held happiness, 

                “I know you will.”


	2. Where are the witches?

        Sam tapped his fingers on the table. With Crowley dead, finding Rowena was incredibly unlikely. Whatever spell Cas was under, they needed it gone, and fast.  Sam looked down the hallway, nodding to his brother who entered the library with much more zeal than he normally showed so early.  He was even dressed. “What’s up with you?”  Despite himself, Sam’s lips quirked up at his brother, who pulled out a chair and sat on it backwards, resting his arms lazily on the backrest.

        “I-just happened to remember something.” Dean cracked a crooked smile and Sam rolled his eyes.  “The only witches we’ve met that weren’t, well, they _were_ horrible, dangerous people,” Dean paused, eyes looking into space, brow furrowing minutely, than relaxing, “but amusing,” Dean finished, holding up a finger, “and _alive_.”  Sam straightened in his chair, picking up a pen and twirling it in his fingers,

        “Wait-they, the Starks?” Sam chuckled, “Dean, Maggie left hex bags in our room-she tried to kill us.”  Dean nodded, sitting back on the chair with a creak,

                “But Don did save us from her, and from the Leviathan.” Dean gave Sam a pointed look.  Sam paused twirling the pen in his fingers.  The Starks _were_ powerful witches, over eight hundred years old.  They were _really_ powerful.  The hope must have shown in his face, because Dean stood up and pulled Sam out of his chair, “So-you go see how Cas is doing, and I’ll, you know, research the evil witchy power couple of doom.”  Sam opened up his mouth to counter that Dean was just avoiding apologizing to Cas, but stopped.  He made for the hallway, pausing when Dean spoke again, “You know Sam, I think, you two, it’s...good.”  Sam turned his head to look at Dean, who was shifting uncomfortably by the table.

        “Dean-”

                “Just go.” Dean sat down, avoiding eye contact and began typing on the laptop. Well, he could coax more out of his brother later.  Cas was turned away from the door when Sam entered, the comforter pulled from around his neck and shoulders and scrunched around the waist.  Sam could literally feel the frustration emitting from Cas.  He had probably tried to get up.  

        “Hey.”  Sam entered the room and sat on the end of the bed, looking up at Cas’ scowling face.  Cas pointedly didn’t look at him, the red streaks on his face and neck running down and peppering the neck of the dark green tee.  “It’s nice to see you, too.”  Cas huffed, his fingers twitching at the air,

        “Where's Dean?”  Sam crossed his arms, trying to ignore the hurt in his stomach.

                “He’s in the library,” Sam managed to get out shortly.  There was an awkward silence, so Sam stood up.  There was a shuffle as Cas struggled to sit up, and a strangled no that had Sam sitting back down right next to Cas and placing a hand on his chest, stilling his movement.  Cas’ eyes darted back and forth,

        “Sam. I don’t want you to leave, I just,” Cas swayed and rested back on an elbow, “I still don’t know, what, do you mean, you can’t want-,” Cas’ voice broke, and suddenly he looked at Sam directly, eyes bloodshot, face pale and taught with exhaustion and pain, “Look at me Sam,” his voice stern, his gaze seeming to look right through Sam, searching, defiant.  Sam stared right back, refusing to back down, refusing to get angry.  Cas was trying to do exactly what Dean did to Lisa, to others in his past.  Push them away because if they could see who he really was, they would hate him.  Because they always got hurt.  Because he thought he was poison.  “I’m broken,” Cas' eyes were narrowed but his strong voice wavered, as he leaned forward and gripped Sam’s shirt tightly, “Not just because of this...curse. Do you hear me Sam?!”  Sam placed a hand over Cas’ hand, squeezing it gently, and shook his head,

        “I hear you,” he said quietly, “I just don’t believe you.”  Cas' eyes widened.  His mouth opened and shut, then his shoulders slumped and he let himself fall on to Sam's chest, shocked silent.  Sam brought his other arm to rub up and down Cas’ back, “Cas, is there anything I can do for the pain? Does it hurt a lot, is it like feeling sick?”  Cas took small, gasping breaths against Sam’s shirt, voice steadying,

        “It’s like, when I was..human, and I walked all day and my body filled with heaviness and aches and my limbs were on fire.  It was as if any moment I was a thread that could be snapped and filled with overwhelming terror and grief.  And I am so thirsty but nauseated at the same time, and every movement is an ache of the body and the mind.”  Cas’ voice was soft, ashamed, and Sam filled with guilt thinking about Cas being alone, homeless, because of him. Because of the trials, and Gadreel. It was because of him that Cas had _died_.

        “No, Sam,” Cas’ voice interrupted, sounding more like his normal self, “You have nothing to blame yourself for. You are the most kind hearted person I have known. If half the angels in heaven had your compassion, then maybe heaven would truly be the place your bible makes it out to be.”  Sam’s throat closed up, and he blinked away tears.  Cas still rested on him, one hand cupped under Sam’s large palm, his breath now calm and warm through Sam’s shirt.  His right arm had wrapped around Sam’s waist and rested low on his back.  Cas said no more, and didn’t look to Sam for a response, so they sat in silence until Dean called from the hallway that they had a lead on the Starks.  

        Apparently the Starks had moved on from Indiana to the West Coast, developing land up and down California.  Dean had seemed extra enthusiastic when he found that out.  “Didn’t we want to take a vacation, Sammy?”  

        Sam looked at him seriously, “Sure. And the whole, killing of death and unleashing of a pre-biblical darkness gives us the perfect excuse to lounge by the beach.”  

        The heavy, somber look on Dean’s face made Sam regret that he had to mention their latest screw up.  Would they ever be able to live without constant fear, constant guilt.  They would never have that.  The feel in the room was a familiar one.  Sam swallowed as he stared at the humming laptop, the screen bright and filled with ads.  Dean spoke gruffly,  “Well, it doesn’t do us any good to sit here, waiting for a sign when,” Dean looked down, “Sam, I don’t even know what to look for.”  

        His voice was weary, tired.  Sam crossed the room and pulled his brother up in a hug.  Dean started, eyes wide, but fell into the embrace anyway.  Sam drew back,  “Well, you might have to wear shorts.”

        Dean groaned, frowning, “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” But the glint of a smile lit up his eyes, and he patted Sam on the shoulder as he moved around him towards his bedroom, snagging the beer from the tabletop as he went.  Sam closed the laptop and placed it in his bag.  They couldn’t leave Cas here, even though, in theory, the bunker was safe, it just felt wrong to leave him. But how could they take him along, with blood dripping from his eyes and him as weak as a kitten?  It didn’t matter, Sam thought, he told Cas he wouldn’t be alone again and he meant it.  

 

        “This is a bad idea.” Dean grumbled.

                “Shut up, Dean.” Cas replied in a very similar voice.  Dean had finally talked with Cas, though he hadn’t spoken to Sam about it.  At the moment he was fiddling with the sunglasses Cas was wearing, the angel tucked into the backseat of the impala.  Dean was adamant that he wear them to prevent freak outs from passers by.  Sam told him people weren't going to even pay attention, but Dean looked at his car and replied of course they would.  It was a damn fantastic car.  Three days had passed since they located the Starks.  They had tried to do some more research on the curse but came up empty handed.  So they were off to California.  

        Cas was wearing fresh clothes, jeans and a dark button up that was a little loose on him but soft and comfortable.  The bleeding from his eyes was manageable now, and while it still looked frightful, didn't appear to be causing any pain.  It was that all over exhaustion and ache that Cas had talked about.  Sam had argued Cas could hang out in their hotel room, a nice one, with a view of the beach, while he and Dean did all the hard work. “Seems fair,” Dean muttered, but without much heat.  Sam was surprised when he saw the hotel Dean picked out, it was _really_ a nice one.  Sam ignored Dean’s suggestion to get separate rooms. Cas didn’t even have the energy to even stand up for long, and he was way too vulnerable emotionally right now for Sam to be comfortable with anything sexual.  

        Sam had begun to crave the touches they shared- the way he could feel Cas’ heart beat against his.  Brushing the hair out of Cas’ eyes.  Cas grew more comfortable reaching for Sam too, encircling his wrist, drawing him close with a soft tug.  Running fingers over Sam’s collarbone as he whispered stories from creation to ancient times to modern history.  Sam loved hearing it.  All of it.  

        Sam told Cas about his father, about Dean, about the life he almost had and left on a college campus.  Cas did seem to like the idea of seeing the ocean, and said that the vast wildness had always intrigued him.

        Sam remembered looking out at the sea while he was at Stanford.  He and Jess had walked along the coast many times.  Sam told Cas that he had good memories of being near the water.  Cas had nodded knowingly, eyes gentle.  He smiled a soft, genuine smile when Sam remarked that Cas’ eyes reminded him of the ocean.

        Back in the impala, Cas smacked Dean’s hands away from his aviators.  Sam grinned at Cas in the rearview mirror.  Dean shut the door and Cas removed the sunglasses, catching Sam’s eye, and winked.  Sam felt himself blush as his smile grew wider, and Cas slipped the frames back on as Dean settled into the driver’s seat.  They lay crookedly across his nose, but were otherwise very attractive on Cas’ face, accentuating his cheekbones.  Dean caught Sam looking in the mirror and rolled his eyes, “Dude, please tell me you can stay focused.”

        “Yeah, sure, what?” Sam looked over at Dean, whose knowing glare turned forward as he adjusted the dial on the radio and started the car.  
  
  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are these chapters too short? I feel like I tend to post more frequent, shorter chapters; but am happy to adjust if you guys would rather have longer chapters posted less often. Okay-toodles!!


	3. Hotel California

        The drive through Kansas was familiar and entertaining.  They were all in high spirits, and the high point of that leg of the journey was when Cas threw a bag of Funions at Dean's head, as he persisted in singing as loud as he could for the thousandth time.  They stopped at the edge of Denver, deciding the catch a few hours of sleep in the car before continuing on.  Sam resisted the urge to move to the back of the car with Cas, instead he leaned the seat back and crossed his arms, closing his eyes.  

        The drive through the mountains was _long_ , and Sam found his long legs cramping in the hundreds of miles in between rest stops and gas stations.  Dean and Cas, for the most part, seemed to relish in the endless span of road.  Dean tapped his thumbs to the music, humming intermittently. Cas stared out the window, once in a while a small smile would quirk across his lips.  Sam sighed, and tried to stretch his legs.  On they went.

        Dean was all for stopping in Vegas, but Sam placated him by saying that _after_ Cas was better, than _maybe_ they could stop on the way back.  Dean had pouted, but sighed dramatically, like a child, with a “ _Fiiine_.”  Then he had glanced back at the sleeping angel, his face momentarily tightening with worry, and Sam gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.  

        Once in California, they headed towards La Jolla, soaking in the sun and the warmth.  They stopped at a hotel about 30 miles north of the wealthy community to regroup.  Sam glanced at the map, “It’s just an easy shot south on I-15, and then a little west.”  Sam watched Dean scan the parking lot, his eyes falling on the crystal clear outdoor pool of the hotel and the laughing groups of tourists.  Sam snorted, and continued, “It’s 3 pm now, so I say we relax and enjoy the rest of the day, you know, before we go and get ourselves maimed by some witches.”  Dean nodded, still not paying much attention.  Cas smiled from where he was leaned up against the impala, his lean form finally unshroud from blankets.  

        Sam walked next to Cas as they made their way to their room.  Cas walked fairly steadily, with just an occasional hand on Sam’s hip for support.  Dean opened the door and the cool air of the hotel room hit them.  Cas shivered, frowning, although he bit his lip and didn’t speak.  He took off his sunglasses, and Sam's hands twitched when he saw the fresh blood stains under his eyes.  Cas glanced at him, unaware, and Sam felt his stomach clench.

        “Damn, this room is cold,” Sam playfully shoved past Dean and opened the plastic cover off of the AC, turning it off.  Dean opened the curtains and sunlight streamed in over the two king beds.  He opened the doors to the little balcony and the sound of cars and people filtered in.  He turned to Cas with a smirk,

        “You can say it, this is awesome.”  

        Cas nodded, eyes smiling, “Yes, it is.”  He looked at the beds-upon one of which Dean had thrown his duffel, the other, where Sam had set his bag at the foot of the bed.  Cas' face was vulnerable, suddenly, like maybe he thought he wasn’t truly welcome.  Sam reached out and squeezed Cas’ shoulder.

        “Um, you can use this bed, Cas, if you want,” Cas looked at him, face unreadable, and Sam began to panic internally,  “I can get a roll-out cot or something, it’s not a big deal, if you don’t feel comfortable…”

        Sam’s voice trailed off, he was hyper aware of Dean pointedly not looking at them.  Cas’ shoulders relaxed,  “Of course I don’t mind sharing, Sam, if you don’t.”  Sam looked at Cas’ eyes which were understanding and a little shy.  Sam cleared his throat,  

        “Cool. Good.”  Cas sat on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes,

        “This is very comfortable.”  

        Dean laughed, breaking the tension, “Hell yes, it is.”  Dean shuffled in place in a goofy dance, “Cali-fornia!!”

 


	4. Witches

        Dean practically threw on swim trunks and a gaudy button up beach shirt.  He looked at Sam in challenge, and Sam raised his eyebrows, “Really, Dean?”  Dean just smiled broadly before rushing to the door,

        “Hurry up, jerk! You too, Cas.”  Then he was gone, and Sam turned to exchange a glance with Castiel, who sat next to him on the bed.  Cas shrugged, and Sam huffed a laugh,

        “You are coming, right?”  Cas let out a hum, considering,

        “I don’t think so. I think this television has Netflix.”  Sam’s face must have fallen, because Cas paused, “Do you want me to go with you?”

        Sam couldn’t help but smile, “I always like you around, obviously.”  

        “Okay,” Cas replied, and his face crinkled slightly, “I don’t think I want to swim, though.”  Sam stood,

        “That’s cool. I’ve got a pair of shorts you can wear, and there’s plenty of chairs-you can read or whatever.”  Cas smiled slowly, a strange glint in his eye,

        “What if I would rather watch you?”

        Sam felt his eyes widen, then grinned,  “That works, too.”

        The water in the pool felt amazing, and Sam took the opportunity to take some laps.  He was aware of Dean chatting up, or flirting, rather, with a couple sitting on the edge of the pool.  Sam emerged from the water, brushing his wet hair out of his face, and looked towards where Cas was lounging on a pool chair.  He looked quite content, hands resting on his stomach, the breeze ruffling his hair.  

        Sam felt a wave of fondness, that quickly morphed into something less benign as two young women approached Cas’ chair.  Cas sat up, speaking to them, but Sam was too far to hear what.  He probably said something adorable and awkward, because the girls laughed and smiled.  

        “Easy there, tiger.” Dean’s hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. Dean looked at him knowingly, “Cas is a big boy.” Sam scowled and pushed his brother’s hand away,

        “Jerk.”

        “Bitch.” Dean spoke before a voice caused him to turn away.  The couple at the edge of the pool gestured something at him and Dean shook his head with a laughing, “Yeah, yeah.”  Sam wasn’t really paying attention because he saw Cas pointing at him, and the girls he had been talking with looked over and smiled. He was pretty sure he heard an _aww_ , and his cheeks flushed.  The ladies laughed good naturedly and waved goodbye to Cas, and Cas grinned unabashedly at Sam, causing his cheeks to flush further.

        “Told you!”  Dean shouted from the edge of the pool.

 

        It was a good day, and once darkness began to creep into the sky, the three retreated back to their room. They shared a couple of pizzas, and Cas convinced Dean to watch a Planet Earth episode.  Dean grumbled at first,  “Why would you want to watch this, anyway, Cas, you know all this stuff.”  Cas gave a puppy eye look that put Sam to shame, and Dean threw the remote down on the comforter, “Fine.”  

        Cas began to nod off pretty quickly, and soon he was leaning all of his weight on Sam, who wrapped an arm around his waist.  “Well, I guess it’s an early night, then.” Dean’s voice was gruff, but fond, as he looked at the half asleep angel.  Sam’s eyes narrowed in concern, there was something in Dean’s voice that sounded, wistful?  But when Dean met his eyes he shrugged lightly and crawled under the covers on his bed, letting out a deep sigh, “This is luxury right here.”

        Sam chuckled, then helped Cas to his feet and pulled the comforter back on their bed.  Cas rested his forehead on Sam’s shoulder, which got shook off as Sam fiddled with the covers, and Cas settled for holding on to Sam’s shirt, yawning.  

        Sleepy Cas was definitely a clingy Cas, and it made Sam’s heart do funny things.  Sam laid down on the left side of the bed and Cas toppled next to him, letting out a sigh that rivaled Dean’s.  For a few minutes there was an awkward space between them.

        Cas’ eyes were closed, but his hand still gripped Sam’s shirt closely, and the other was under his pillow.  Sam found himself wanting to press closer, but didn’t want to disturb the peaceful look on Cas’ face or freak him out.  Cas didn’t seem to mind being a little separate.  So eventually, he gently turned, loosing Cas’ grip on his shirt, and faced the wall, examining the wallpaper with a gloomy feeling.

        There was movement from Cas’ side and then there were two arms circling his front and pulling him close against a strong chest and calmly beating heart.  Cas’ grip was loose, but his body was tense.  Sam took a breath and shifted so that their legs tangled together, and he stroked Cas’ arm soothingly.  Cas’ whole body relaxed and he sighed, pressing his nose into Sam’s hair.  Sam couldn’t stop smiling as he fell into sleep.

 

        The next morning Sam was woken up by the sound of loud coughing.  He sat up and saw Cas slumped over, arms clutching his stomach.  Dean was next to Cas, a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Sam with a worried frown.  There were trails of blood all the way down Cas’ face and down his neck, and Sam could feel sticky dampness on the back of his shirt.  He reached for Cas who allowed Sam to hold him as he groaned weakly.  

        The fatigue from before was back, and Cas’ complexion was sickly.  Dean moved to the bathroom and Sam heard the water running.  He came back with a washcloth and handed it to Sam, who began to softly wipe the blood trails off Cas’ face.  Cas’ face grew even more pale and with a jerky motion Cas pushed Sam’s hand away and tried to move away before he hunched forward and got sick, the fluid splattering on the comforter and on Sam’s arms.  Dean backed up,  “Dude, gross.”  

        Sam would have glared at him, but Cas pressed a hand to his mouth with a sob, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m-”  

        “Shh-” Sam rubbed his back and the back of his neck, swallowing the bile in his own throat and trying to ignore the sickness on his skin. “It’s okay, Cas. You’re okay.”  Shakily, he got out from under the covers and lifted Cas out, as well.  Cas’ feet stumbled on the floor as Sam half carried him to the bathroom.  “Do you think you’re going to get sick again?” Sam asked softly.

        “I don’t know.” Cas said tiredly.

        “Okay.” Sam sat Cas on the edge of the bathtub and gently pulled Cas’ t-shirt off.  He wet a new towel and carefully washed Cas' arms and face and chest.  Then he shrugged off his own soiled shirt and washed his hands.  Dean wordlessly handed him a bundle of fresh clothing.  Sam tugged a new t-shirt on Cas and a soft, worn hoodie.  Sam zipped the sweatshirt up and brushed back the hair around Cas’ ears, noting the apologetic look in the angel’s eyes.  

        “Thank you, Sam.” Cas murmured, “I’m sorry I ‘threw up’ on you.”  His use of air quotes prompted a small smile on Sam’s face.  

        “It’s nothing you could control,” Sam said softly.  He was surprised when Cas’ hands raised and cupped his cheeks gently, and Cas pressed a kiss to his forehead, eyes shining with fondness.  Dean cleared his throat,

        “Well, the laundry’s out, we should probably hit the Stark’s place asap.”  Sam nodded,

        “Right.”  Together, he and Dean helped Cas to the clean bed and wrapped him up.  Sam collected their gear together and tossed Dean the car keys.  Dean opened the door,

        “Okay, Cas, we’ll be back. We’ll fix this.”  Cas smiled warmly,

        “I know.”  The door to the hotel room clicked close as they left the angel behind.

 

        The Starks opened the door of their mansion, impeccably dressed and wearing shared expressions of non-surprise and nonchalance.  Don Stark simply shrugged his hands into his pockets and watched them calmly, completely unafraid of their weapons,  “I hoped to never see you too again, but I didn’t think I’d be so lucky.”  Maggie turned to him, face incredulous,

        “Well, gee, don’t thank me for trying to take care of that problem for you! This is your fault!” She turned back to Sam and Dean, “Come on, try and kill me. I dare you.”  Dean straightened, mouth opening to speak.  Don rolled his eyes and laid a placating hand on his wife’s arm.

        “What do you want?”  With that, Dean’s angry expression became more controlled,

        “Well, um, we have this friend-”

        “You-a friend?”  Maggie played with her hair, seemingly amused.

        Sam raised his hands in supplication, “Yes, he’s under this curse, and it’s, it’s not good. We need you to help us.”  Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Please.” Sam heard the desperation in his voice, and it made him want to look away.  

        “What kind of curse?” Don sounded bored, but he hadn’t thrown the brothers into any walls or anything, so Sam took that as a good sign.  As Dean described the symptoms, Maggie’s gaze remained on Sam.  It had softened slightly.  

        “I can do that.” Maggie interjected.  Dean’s voice trickled off.  He looked at Maggie with surprise.  “Oh, don’t be so shocked. It’s annoying,” she sighed in exasperation, “Especially you!” she swiveled on her husband. Don’s eyebrows raised. “I’m a fan of love.  Especially love that has lasted for a long time, and has faced a lot together,” she looked pointedly at her husband, who took her hands.  Maggie looked back at Sam, “And I have a feeling this qualifies.”  Sam felt a mixture of shock, relief, and embarrassment.

        “Err, um, thank you?”  Maggie scoffed and moved past the two,

        “Let me collect some ingredients.”  

        Dean shrugged, “Well, all right. Awesome. You know what this means right, Sam?”  Sam shook his head,

        “What?” 

        “Vegas.”  


	5. Good News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, so syrupy sweet. Why can't I write Sastiel as anything other than adorable, sweet, goodness?!! You know what, I wouldn't change a thing :) Enjoy my lovelies!

        Sam moved quickly up the hotel stairs, passing by a group of kids heading to the pool, their towels trailing underfoot.  He almost tripped, but caught himself on the handrail.  He thought he mumbled a quick apology, but all he could think was _did it work?_ Dean was waiting for a phone call-he had decided to watch the Starks in case the spell hadn't worked and they decided to bolt.  Sam inserted the key card, waited for the beep, and opened the door.  

        Cas was still wrapped in blankets on the bed and Sam stepped towards him, worried.  But as he sat down on the edge of the bed, Cas' eyes blinked open.  They were clear, weary and sad, but clear.  "Oh, thank god."  Sam pulled Cas up and into an embrace.  The angel allowed Sam to hold him for a few seconds, then gently pressed a hand to his chest.  Sam sat back, exhausted from the relief coursing through him.  He ran a hand over his face and caught an amused expression on Cas' face.  "We were worried about you, man."  His voice was steady, at least.  Cas' expression changed from amused to reflective and a little awed,

        "Yes."  His eyes flickered over Sam's face and hands and then back to his eyes, where they seemed to pierce right into him.  Finally, Cas took a small breath, "Thank you. For putting aside everything for this, for...me."  He shifted uncomfortably, and his disbelief only increased the guilt Sam felt.  

        Hesitantly, he wrapped a large hand around Cas', which were once again warm and without tremors.  "I'm sorry for how, things have been lately.  I can't really apologize, but I can promise to try better to be a good friend, to be...what you need, whatever you want me to be."  Sam trailed off, noticing how tightly his grip was on Cas' hands.  He loosed his grip and wiped his hands on his thighs.  There were a few moments of silence.  Then he felt fingertips run across his forehead, much like when Cas had healed him from Ezekiel, after Ezekiel.  Cas' face was pinched, many emotions running through his face.  Then it relaxed, and the fingers ran down his cheek, across his nose, a small smile developing on his face.  He gave Sam another look full of wonder and Sam shifted,

        "You are so good, I saw before, but not like this. I-"  Finally the fingers dropped from his face, slowly, reluctantly.  Cas' voice grew stronger, more earnest, "You _are_ good, Sam."  

        Sam felt his eyes stinging, and he cleared his throat, only to feel a set of soft lips press over his, a confident hand holding the back of his neck.  Sam shivered and fell into the kiss, opening his lips and letting Cas' tongue softly explore.  When he finally pulled back to take a breath, his hands were on Cas' waist and Cas' cheeks were flushed.  Sam laughed softly, an amazing lightness filling him up.  Cas smiled with his eyes, his fingers stroking softly through Sam's hair.  

        Both of them jumped when Sam's phone rang, "Shit. Dean, I, hang on, Cas."  Sam shuffled for his phone, as Cas untangled himself from the bedspread and walked into the bathroom.  "Hey, Dean, yeah, hi."  Dean paused,

        "Is," his voice shifted, "am I interrupting something Sammy?"  There was relief and teasing in his voice.

        Sam groaned, "Shut up, Dean, and we're good.  You can leave, now."

        Dean laughed, "All right."  Sam could hear the Impala's engine start.  Dean's tone grew more somber, "That's, real good." 

        "Yeah." Sam looked towards the bathroom, where Cas was looking at himself in the mirror.  He furrowed his brow as Dean said he'd be back soon and hung up.  Sam stood and walked over to Cas, whose eyes flicked up to him in the mirror.  

        "This body feels less like a vessel every day. It's confusing.  When Rowena attacked me, and my body, this body, was hurt, I was,  _angry_ , violated.  Because this is _me_ , now. But I'm an angel.  I _am_ an angel."  Cas turned and looked at Sam, his confusion crumpling into exhaustion.  "I'm tired. Why am I tired?"  

        Sam swallowed, and reached for Cas' face, leaning forward to press a kiss on his forehead.  "You'll be okay, Cas,"  he finally said.  Sam lips twitched, "I'll watch over you."  Cas smiled then, a real, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle, and a glint appeared that was quite new,

        "Maybe I'm not _that_ tired, after all."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't decide, but next chapter, there may be smuttiness. Porny feels. Fluffy porn. Fluff and unicorns all around.


	6. Much Faster Than Expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the sex. Lol.
> 
> Have some porn and feels!

        Cas kissed Sam more forcefully this time, his hands twisting in Sam's shirt and pushing him back towards the bed.  Cas was a strong guy, a force to be reckoned with, and his eyes were flushed with want.  Sam responded by lifting Cas up, his arms easily supporting the muscled thighs, and kissed and sucked at Cas' neck, teasing with his teeth.  Cas growled, and grabbed Sam's hair, pulling his head up and bringing their lips clashing together.  

        "Are...you...sure," Sam spoke tauntingly in between biting kisses, "You can take me, Cas?"  Cas' voice was low and dark, "Yes. I will take you, Sam."  Sam moaned, and he let himself fall back on to the bed, Cas above him.  

        So, this was happening much faster than expected. And Sam was definitely cool with it.  Still, there was an awkward moment when indecision flitted over Cas' face.  Desire and arousal and a need for control warred with embarrassment at his own tenacity.  Sam was surprised at how arousing the dominant display had been.  He was always taking charge in bed, and his partners enjoyed it.  But right now, all Sam could think of was Cas making good on his word, so he unwrapped his arms from Cas' body and let them fall over his head as he tried to give Cas a cocky smile, but it came out shaky.  

        Gentle fingers cupped his chin as Cas frowned, his heaving chest beginning to slow.  Sam could only manage a whispery, pleading "Cas," as he closed his eyes and bared his throat, hoping the angel would understand.  Then there was a fierce grip on his wrists as Cas began to mark his neck with enthusiasm, and Sam went loose under him, moaning softly.  Every noise he made seemed to affect Cas, and soon there were nimble fingers undoing his belt as Cas went between peppering his face with kisses and snarling into his chest and neck, leaving imprints over Sam's torso.

        Cas released his wrists as Sam threw off his button up and t-shirt. Cas pulled off his clothes and Sam's pants.  He paused, fingers curled in the waistband of Sam's boxers, looking up for permission.  Sam nodded, and they joined the pants on the floor.  

        They were both naked, wanting, but that look of hesitation was back on Cas' face, and Sam was sure his expression was anxious, as well.  Much more softly than before, Sam pulled Cas in by the back of the neck and kissed him, bringing a hand to his ass and pulling their bodies together.  Cas gasped at the initial contact, than groaned as they moved against each other.  It was amazing, but Sam needed more, so he reached a hand towards the nightstand, "Ow, fuck!" Sam's knuckles rapped against the edge of the table and it stung.

        He looked back at Cas, and to his surprise, Cas huffed out a laugh, and reached over Sam and opened the drawer.  He pulled out the little bottle inside, and raised an eyebrow.  Sam nodded, face now hot.  Cas' expression softened, and ran a hand up through Sam's hair reverently as he kissed him, tongue flicking into his mouth gently and reassuringly.  Sam sighed and pulled Cas tight against him.  They rubbed and kissed into each other's skin, and Sam let his legs open as he tried to push at Cas' shoulder.  

        Cas stiffened, and then spoke, his soft voice loud after minutes of not speaking, "I, don't want to hurt you."  He looked at Sam, blue eyes nearly black but still so caring and devoted, it was almost painful.

        "You won't."  Sam was surprised at not only how sure his voice was, but how sure he knew it.  He had no doubts about this.  The realization brought a smile to his lips, and he curled his lip, giving Cas a challenging look, "Come on, _angel_. Take me."  Cas' eyes narrowed with a responding look of amusement and challenge.  He lifted Sam's legs effortlessly, and pressed a lubed finger into his ass without preamble.  Sam groaned and threw his head back, pressing himself down as the fingers grew to two and then three.  

        Cas lifted his head from pressing soft kisses on his stomach and moved one hand onto Sam's shoulder.  Sam could feel Cas hard and ready against him.  Cas stared into his eyes with the first push in, as Sam cursed on an exhale.  Cas was slow, careful, but sure, and his gaze never wavered from Sam's face, taking in every pant and whine and moan.  When he was all the way in, Cas' composure broke, and he dropped his head onto Sam's chest, "Sam."  

        Sam would never admit that he whimpered on hearing the way Cas said his name.  Sam wrapped his legs tighter around Cas and grabbed at him selfishly.  And finally, Cas lost the gentle touch and began to thrust rougher and harder.  "Yes, thank fuck. Come on, Cas. More, please, more."  Cas growled and his grip on Sam was almost painful.  His hips snapped easily and harshly as Sam could do nothing but take it and moan.  

        Cas was quick to adapt to Sam's sounds of pleasure, adjusting until soon he was hitting in just the right spot.  Sam's body began to tighten and shake as he got close, a litany of "Please, please, please, please angel," falling from his lips, "oh god." Sam felt the warmth hit his chest as he came and Cas followed soon after with a long groan.  Sam felt the come in his body and the sweat dripping from his hair.  He was pretty sure there were tears on his cheeks, too.  

        Cas lifted his head from where he had buried it in Sam's shoulder and gave a watery smile, pressing a hand against Sam's cheek, "Sam. So good. Perfect. That was-" Cas broke off with a shaky exhale, as he wiped the wetness from under Sam's eyes and pressed little kisses on his eyelids, which only caused fresh tears to fall down his cheeks.  Despite the discomfort of all the fluids sticking between them, Sam only held Cas tighter.


	7. Polite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Everything is kisses and sweetness. I may be wrapping this up next chapter, as I am unable to appropriately add any plot or angst whatsoever.

        Sam wanted to lay there and hold Cas forever, but he knew Dean would be back soon.  Dean may say and even act like he was okay with all this, but seeing his brother and best friend naked and intertwined _apres l'amour_ , would just be cruel.  Sam hadn't missed the look in Dean's eyes the past week, like he'd been missing something all along, that something he had right in front of him slipped past his fingers.  Sam's grip tightened, and Cas grumbled,

        "What?"  When Sam didn't answer, gentle fingers pressed against his cheek and he turned to look at Cas, whose face was soft and a little shy.  Sam couldn't help but smile at him, and Cas' eyes lit up.  Cas grinned, and the crinkles in the edges of his eyes did nothing to take away from the fact that he looked years younger, millennia younger, than he had just yesterday.  

        "Uh, nothing, just," Sam shifted, and Cas loosed his arms from around Sam and sat up, "Dean's going to be back anytime now, so..."  

        Cas looked down, brow momentarily furrowed, "Oh."  Sam was about to say something reassuring when Cas looked back up with a stubborn expression, "And?"  Sam momentarily was at a loss for words, as he stared at Cas, still very naked and perfect next to him.

        Cas' hair was rumpled and he smelled like sex.  Sam took in his adorable grumpy expression, his narrowed, intense blue eyes and those lips that learned so quickly, so eagerly.  Sam thought about what it would be like to see Cas under him, Sam's weight pinning him as he sat on his chest, hand tangled mercilessly in that hair, Cas' mouth wrapped around his cock. Sam shook himself, and muttered quickly,

        " _And_ , it's kind of not, polite, I guess.  This is his hotel room, too."  

        Cas' eyes now had an impish glint,  "I'm fairly sure that this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you with a lover."

        "Cas!" Sam's cheeks flamed at the term "lover", but Cas was relentless,

        "You've shared hotel rooms almost entirely your entire life.  Not to mention the Impala.  I'm sure you've seen your fair share as well-"  Sam groaned and flopped back down on the bed, looking at the wall.  He heard a soft huffing laughter behind him, than Cas ran a hand through his hair, "All right, _my love."_

        This time the endearment was clearly teasing, although there was a vulnerable edge to it.  Cas knew he was making Sam's face flush, just like he knew Sam had been soaking up every praise, every reassurance, every _word_ that Castiel spoke so surely in his ear.  After a moment, Sam heard Cas walk into the bathroom and the shower turned on.  

        Sam belatedly hoped Cas didn't take his embarrassment as a type of rejection, and when Cas exited the bathroom, Sam pulled him in by the back of the neck and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, whispering in all sincerity,  "Thank you, sweetheart."  Cas took a sharp breath in, and he just nodded, although his cheeks showed a rare blush, and his eyes were pleased.

        When Dean walked into the room half and hour later, he found Sam just sitting on the bed, laptop abandoned in front of him, watching Castiel.  Cas was sitting by the open windows, humming softly, lifting his face into the warm west coast breeze with human openness.  It made Sam dizzy.  His heart was filled with so much affection he didn't even care when Dean jabbed him on the shoulder, and he just smacked his older brother away, rolling his eyes.  But he didn't take his gaze away from his lover in the window.    


	8. Wrap it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end folks. For now at least, maybe in the future I will make this part of a series. You never know. :)

        This drive is a delight, Sam thought to himself, only partly sarcastic.  Dean had taken to teasing him and Cas at the absolute worst moments, like when Cas was trying to order coffee in a diner, and told the waitress he couldn't get enough of the taste, and Dean quipped it wasn't the only thing he couldn't get enough of the taste of.  First Cas blushed bright red, then scowled at Dean while the waitress bit her lip and tried not to laugh.  

        Or when Sam came back from the restroom at the gas station and Dean remarked that he'd been in there so long that he thought Cas must have been in there with him.  Honestly, it got to be a little too much, and after one remark that went a little too far on nerves that were a little too frayed, Dean turned from Sam, smirk still on his face, to see Cas looking positively wrathful behind him.  Cas grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into the wall of the gas station, "Enough!"  Dean's mouth opened and closed, eyes wide.  Sam had to admit he was more than a little turned on but really didn't want to see his brother as a pile of angel-smited goo, so he placed a hand on the arm that looked very ready to throw a hit and told Cas it was okay.  

        Cas had turned his glare on to Sam and he gulped.  Nonetheless, Cas took a breath, lowered his arm, and slightly less gently than required, pulled Dean away, telling Sam that they needed to have a talk.  By the time they drove off, Dean had quieted, looking less like a chastised child and just, tired? sad?  Sam had turned a concerned look to Cas but he shook his head.  Sam noted that Cas' eyes were a little red-rimmed, also.  

        They got back to the bunker, and as Sam exited the car, he pulled Cas to him in a kiss, trying to dispel the weirdness that had followed the whole second half of the drive.  Cas kissed back, hesitantly at first, his tense shoulders slowly relaxing.  Sam brought his hands to rub through Cas' hair and felt Cas' hands fall easily on his hips.

        "Hey." Dean's voice interrupted and Sam broke away from the kiss to look at his brother, wary.  Dean glanced at Cas and coughed, "Um, just uh, wrap it up...jerk."  Sam felt a wave of fondness and recognized the apology for what it was.  

        "Bitch." He smiled and Dean smiled back.  There was still something going on there, but they would work it out. They always did.  Sam let Cas pull him back into a chaste kiss and a warm hug, smiling as his angel held him close.


End file.
